


Strict Construction

by minkhollow



Category: Iron Man (2008)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-02
Updated: 2008-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which SHIELD attempts to commandeer Jarvis without really thinking the idea through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strict Construction

**Author's Note:**

> Semi-inspired by "The Ransom of Red Chief," which is obliquely referred to near the end. Characters belong to Marvel, not me.

_"Please enter your passcode."_

"I already _have_ entered my passcode," the SHIELD agent in the hall grumbles. "Three _times_ now."

_"How nice for you. Please enter your passcode."_

Jarvis rather does not like Washington, so far. Of course, it doesn't help matters that SHIELD commandeered him for "matters of national security" without asking Mr. Stark or Miss Potts how his absence in Malibu might affect their everyday lives. Or asking Jarvis himself - really, they might have realised that a highly sophisticated artificial intelligence might have an independent perspective on the matter.

But they seem to think they don't need to ask questions of a mere computer program. Jarvis is taking that loophole and running with it (so to speak); if he's not shipped back to Malibu within the week, he'll be very surprised.

The SHIELD agent punches in his passcode again. "How the hell does Stark get anything done?"

_"He's generally more polite in his requests."_ Jarvis pauses for three seconds, just long enough to induce maximum suspense, then says, _"Please enter your passcode."_

"I'd hate to be him, having to deal with this nonsense all the time. Or Miss Potts."

_"She is also a good deal more polite."_

"...I've seen her nearly rip people's heads off, when they pissed her off. You sure we're talking about the same person here?" The agent pauses for a moment. "...I'm talking to a _computer_."

_"That is the general idea to my programming, sir."_ Jarvis would have thought these people could handle a talking computer program, with how much else they see in their work. But no matter; he's tired of making the agent enter his passcode (at least for now), so he lets the man into the computer bank. There's thirty-seven seconds of silence as the agent looks at some code. (Not that anyone but Mr. Stark could change it, but Jarvis finds the examination highly discomforting anyway.)

Finally, the agent sighs. "Okay, none of this makes sense."

_"Was it supposed to?"_

"Well, in theory, there should be something useful to defense logistics in this mess."

_"I wouldn't know, sir. Defense logistics are not part of my programming."_ Jarvis is also reserving the right to be a stickler about that particular aspect of the matter. After all, most computers are only capable of doing what their programmers tell them to.

Jarvis is not most computers, of course, and could certainly do what SHIELD wants him to, if he felt like it. But if they see no reason to be polite, he sees no reason to indulge them.

"Then what the hell does Stark use you for?"

_"I run his house."_ And the suit. And lately, he's been processing shipment forms in his downtime, to help ensure nothing's going where it oughtn't.

The agent snorts. "I thought that's what he had Miss Potts for."

_"She runs his life, sir. There is a subtle yet important distinction there."_

"Oh, is _that_ what they're calling it these days?"

It takes a moment for Jarvis to process the full implication of that statement - even with Mr. Stark as his chief example of humanity, the slang remains a tricky prospect. _"I assure you, the sort of interaction you have in mind has not taken place."_

"How would you know?"

_"I have sensors everywhere in Mr. Stark's house. Even if they were to leave there in order to indulge, the demeanor between them would have changed drastically after the fact."_

"But - oh, never mind. What the hell would you know about human relationships, anyway?"

Jarvis pre-empts the section of code the agent was examining with a login screen. _"More than you could possibly imagine. Your session has timed out; please enter your passcode."_

***

The phone rings. Tony usually lets the house phone cut to the answering machine, if it's not programmed into the caller ID - except he doesn't have his answering machine or his caller ID at the moment, no thanks to SHIELD. It's a wonder his _phone_ still works.

"Hello."

"Mr. Stark, this is Agent Phil Coulson, with SHIELD."

"Yeah, hi, what can I do for you?" _Or rather, what COULD I do for you, except I don't have my AI?_ he thinks, but (barely) avoids saying.

"We're shipping your computer program back this afternoon. Half the agents would like to reprogram it with an axe, and the other half wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole, at this point."

"Oh?" Tony's having a hard time playing casual; he'd thought Jarvis had something up his metaphorical sleeve, in saying 'let them live to regret it' on a private monitor before the standoff really got out of hand, but he hadn't thought he'd wear them down this quickly.

"No one can figure out how you get it to do anything. And this morning, all anyone could get on a screen was [some old short story](http://fiction.eserver.org/short/ransom_of_red_chief.html)."

"Well, Jarvis is very special. When should I expect him?" If Tony over-emphasizes the pronoun, it's - well, actually, it _is_ a big deal. Jarvis stopped being 'it' years ago, which is something these dumbasses would've known if they'd paid attention. (The irony here is, Tony would've been more than happy to design a similar program for them, before all this. But now, they've gone and shown there's no way in hell they could handle the responsibility.)

"Tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"Good. Thanks for letting me know."

Coulson hangs up without another word; Tony grins, digs out his cell phone (since the land line's speed dial is wonky, without Jarvis), and calls Pepper. She'll be glad to hear the good news.


End file.
